I’ve started to realize that I tend to write late at night when I can sleep, when my mind is racing or like tonight, my back is bothering me and I’m tired of rolling around trying to get comfortable. Tonight is both though, at one point when I got comfortable with a pillow between my knees taking the pressure off my lower back I started thinking back on today and began to think, which lead to overthinking, which lead to worrying. Here is the dilemma at hand; my son and I are basically strangers to one another.
I’m unfamiliar with what makes him tick beyond what he shows when he is here, and that is mostly consumed with playing with his sisters, his trucks, and wanting to always have what he wants to watch on TV, and I’m not far from just a guy he calls “Daddy” and he sees every couple of weeks for a few days. He doesn’t know what I do, he doesn’t know what it’s like to sit and watch a ball game with me, he isn’t aware of who my favorite teams are. (Kentucky Wildcats, Cincinnati Reds, and Bengals for those keeping score at home) It’s honestly a bit disturbing when I sat down and started thinking of all this. It causes me to feel like I’ve let him down, and let myself down. That I’ve broken promises that I made to myself (another post for another time), which just leads to more questions, and more fears and doubts. He went nearly 10 months of his life without truly knowing me as his father, and still yet rarely gets to know what it feels like to have me around. Is that helpful or hurtful for him? Does he know how much I love him and cherish him? or will he find reasons to resent me when he gets older? Just some of the thoughts and questions swimming in my mind when it comes to my son. He is worth every second I get to have him, but it is becoming more and more of an internal struggle. I only hope I always do right by him.